


Memoria

by MidoriKurenaiYume



Category: Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Abortion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bittersweet, Dialogue, Discussion of Abortion, Established Relationship, F/M, Medical Procedures, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 09:35:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20255974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidoriKurenaiYume/pseuds/MidoriKurenaiYume
Summary: A difficult decision needs to be made.





	Memoria

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: this fic is about abortion, and it's quite bittersweet and sad. Please note that not all legal abortions are how I describe them here, as they depend on how far along the pregnancy is, on the medical centre and on the country they are performed in.
> 
> Title: from a song by Eir Aoi, first ending of Fate/Zero. It was sung by Kalafina together with Eir Aoi at Mezamashi 2015 :)

..

...

..

Arturia stared down at the table, her gaze faraway and empty, her fists clenched without her even being aware of it.

She had been sitting inside the teashop for a short time, and even though Gilgamesh wasn’t there yet, she would have usually been tapping her foot against the floor in annoyance because he was late, even if just a few minutes. But at least on this occasion, she wasn’t able to let her full mind be distracted by trivialities such as time.

She was brought back to the present when a presence made itself suddenly known next to her, in the form of a male body that leaned towards her. She was slightly startled when he met her lips, but even though she hesitated for a moment and didn’t respond, she didn’t pull away from the kiss, allowing the contact to last for quite a while.

Fully aware of the fact that he would notice, she ultimately did respond, as she wasn’t going to allow her troubled thoughts to prevent her from doing something she liked – although it was in public this time – and had even come to cherish. Furthermore, she couldn’t forget the purpose of her having asked Gilgamesh to meet her out for tea, and since she knew that it could change their relationship irreversibly, she couldn’t stop herself from deciding to indulge herself with some unexpected selfishness and just get lost in the moment.

But it was indeed just a moment, because they soon separated and he plopped down on his seat. Seeing that she already had a cup of tea in front of her, he told the waitress his own order – completely ignoring the long, coy looks she was trying to give him – and then let his eyes land on Arturia again.

He stared at her, waiting with some slight impatience for her to speak. He had long since learned that she seldom acted on impulse when there was something serious she wanted to discuss, and the fact that she had called him a few hours earlier and asked him to meet her without offering an explanation definitely sounded like something serious.

He was well aware of the fact that she wouldn’t have made such a request if she had just wanted to see him or spend time with him, because she would have been straightforward enough to tell him as much without hesitation; her reticence made it obvious that she considered the matter to be extremely important.

However, she chose to say nothing for a while longer, waiting for his order to arrive – unsurprisingly, it was wine – and then took her teacup to her lips, not sipping but briefly and inconspicuously looking around to make sure that no one could overhear.

Having ascertained that, she put her cup down and finally met his gaze, saying in a flat tone, “I’m pregnant.”

There was no need for her to add anything to that simple statement, at least not right away. While they hadn’t given a clear name to the kind of relationship they had, he knew that she wasn’t sleeping with anyone beside him, and she knew that the same was true for him.

Arturia stayed silent for a little while, giving him the time to absorb such an unexpected piece of news, but she made sure to speak again before he could think of interrupting.

“We are both too young,” she said, her tone managing to be detached, “and I have considered all possibilities carefully.” There was a pause. “I plan on getting an abortion.”

Gilgamesh was silent, and stared at her with an indiscernible look in his eyes. He was silent for a while, but the suddenly increased tension between them was unmistakable.

Not showing any of his emotions, he asked, “Why are you telling me like this?”

She opted to glance at her teacup.

“You have the right to know,” she replied curtly, “but not to decide for me. It’s my body.”

In spite of herself, she slumped slightly in her seat, her tiredness peeking through her carefully guarded mask. “I thought about every option very carefully. This is the one I’ve chosen.”

His tone was calm, but the tension that radiated off him was undeniable.

“If one of your concerns was financial support, know that it shouldn’t be – I would never make you… or the child… want for anything.”

Arturia’s expression remained unchanged, and she unconsciously let her hands rest on the table.

“I assumed you would offer this, but while it’s relieving to hear you confirm it,” she honestly hadn’t been entirely certain he would say it, “you know that it’s not a concrete possibility. The legal battle is far from over.”

They were both aware of the ferocious trial that was still going on. Gilgamesh’s parents had left him an enormous amount of money that would have already been his by right, if some of his more unscrupulous relatives hadn’t contested the will. It was quite certain that they wouldn’t win the trial, but the problem was that it had already been going on for years, and until every legal aspect of it was settled, the money remained frozen.

Neither Arturia nor Gilgamesh were currently in a good financial situation; it was part of the reason why they had not moved in together, as they wouldn’t have been able to afford it. They were able to look after themselves, but adding a kid to it would be impossible, she knew that, and she saw the same conflicted realization appear on his face, too.

Arturia focused on him with some wariness as he spoke again.

“While the choice _is_ ultimately yours, it would indeed be difficult to look after a baby.” He made a strange movement with his hand. “Money, one way or another, can be found. But it’s irrefutable that we are still quite young and somewhat not yet dealing with adult life.”

She was amazed by how seemingly calmly he had taken her news and by how lucidly they were able to discuss the pros and cons. It was however as if they were deciding whether or not to have children in the future, not like she was already carrying one.

They had decided to forgo condoms a few months before when she had started – under medical advice – to take the pill, but they should have probably waited a bit before sleeping together again. It was now a little too late to be more careful.

“Have you considered,” he stopped for a second, reading her face attentively, “adoption?”

She kept her tone as void of emotions as possible, even though it was becoming increasingly more difficult.

“I have,” she replied slowly, struggling to bring herself to admit it. “But I do not feel able to do it. Of course it would probably be different for another person, but I can’t have this baby and then give it up for adoption. For me, it feels like throwing away the responsibility of what has happened.”

Gilgamesh knew how important it was for Arturia to take her responsibilities seriously, and it was sometimes true even for things that _weren’t _her responsibility.

“Also,” she went on, making him look at her intently even as she kept her eyes glued to her long untouched teacup, “I am aware of my current shortcomings as a possible mother. If I gave the child up, however, I would never stop worrying about whom the child is given to, whether or not he or she grows up in a decent environment.” There was another, longer pause. “What's more, a child deserves better than solely my _worry_.”

She finally looked up. “A child… deserves love.” Her voice didn’t crack, she _wouldn’t allow_ it to crack. “It deserves love, guidance… a family. Giving it up for adoption may create the conditions for this to happen, but I need to be certain of it. And keeping it is unfortunately not going to make this possible either, for at this moment in our lives, I cannot–… we cannot… _neither_ of us can give a baby care and affection.”

Her entire body tensed slightly. “And this… this is unfair towards the child.”

He did not interrupt her as she spoke, even as her words became faster and started stumbling together, instead staring at her and listening to what she had to say. It was then that she suddenly realized that her left arm was lying outstretched on the rather small table between them, and at some point, when she hadn’t noticed, he had brought his hand over hers, the hold neither too tight nor too loose.

She wondered how it was possible that she hadn’t realized it before, and surprised herself by hesitating, not knowing whether she wanted to withdraw her hand.

Hiding her moment of embarrassment, she was silent, attempting to gather herself. Perhaps coming to a public place hadn’t been the best idea after all. She had been sure it would enable her to remain in control of herself with less effort than it would have taken at home, and she had wanted to be on neutral ground, at neither of their places. All considered, however, maybe she had underestimated the lack of privacy a teashop offered.

She had to make an effort to recover her train of thought.

“That is why I decided to have an abortion.”

Without removing his hand, he nodded slowly.

“This decision is yours. I won’t interfere.”

Those words made her feel slightly more on edge, as she could take his statement in many different – and not always pleasant – ways.

“You mean you don’t care.”

His eyes flashed, but he managed to rule his temper – a rare occurrence, as he usually didn’t bother.

“Do not speak nonsense, Arturia, especially when you know it to be such.”

His other hand came to join the one already touching hers, but he did not say anything else.

Arturia could have insisted, but she chose not to. She cleared her throat.

“I made the necessary appointments,” she said briskly. “I already went for the first one, where they confirmed that I’m just over twelve weeks pregnant, and I will soon go back for the small operation.”

As she had surpassed the three months mark, she could not take the so-called abortion pills, but she would have to undergo a short and simple surgery known as vacuum aspiration. She decided that she didn’t need to tell him the details.

“When is your appointment? And where?”

She was so taken aback by those questions coming from him that she automatically gave the reply before she could actually think about the oddity of his asking.

He nodded at her after she had blurted out the answers. “I will come pick you up then.”

Arturia stared at him for a long, silent moment before telling him, a hint of coldness in her voice, “I can drive myself, and I don’t need, nor want, to be coddled.”

He seemed to be rather annoyed by her reply.

“You are not going alone,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Not because you need support, but because, as you put it, of responsibility.” His fingers started tracing hers, idly. “I’m coming with you.”

Arturia was startled by how much the contact affected her now. She had been feeling more isolated than usual during the past few days spent in dealing with her discovery and making up her mind as to what was the best decision to make.

She did not respond to the touch, but she did not try to retract her hand this time, even though she usually wasn’t comfortable with public displays of affection. She knew that he was going to notice.

“No, you are not coming.”

His fingers did not stop caressing her hand softly.

“I can’t give you orders, but neither can you give _me_ orders, Arturia.”

In spite of herself, she stiffened.

“I’m perhaps not happy to say it, Gilgamesh, but there is no need for you to come too.” Her features hardened somewhat as she looked into his eyes. “This was not your mistake.”

“You are right, it wasn’t,” he said, and it was a mystery how the muscles in his face were able to be perfectly still even as he spoke. “But it wasn’t your mistake either, Arturia.”

Disbelief filled her, and she couldn’t hide that emotion from him, not when her eyes were locked with his. He was still touching her hand, no longer caressing it, but his hold was firm. “No blame can be placed, not for this.”

She was silent for so long that he eventually raised an eyebrow at her.

“Yes it can,” she whispered at last. “And I know I must accept it and shoulder it.”

She broke their gaze to look down, eyes falling on her flat abdomen. There was no visible change to see, but she had received confirmation and she knew there was a fetus growing there, one that would never be born. One that _could _never be born, because she could not bring a child into the world without having the concrete means to look after it. She could not give it life without knowing that she could actually offer it a _real_, _loving_ life.

She wanted to give something better to a child of hers, she wanted to be able to offer it security, but she couldn’t. She didn’t have the means for it, she could not afford it. She had had to make her decision according to those materialistic considerations too.

She could not keep the child, because it would have been neglected and unloved, and she could not allow that to happen.

Arturia only realized that an unwanted tear had fallen down her cheek when Gilgamesh lifted a hand, found her face and, very carefully, wiped it away.

She blinked furiously, angry with herself for such a moment of weakness that she had even let him see as well. She took a few deep but silent breaths to compose herself again, refusing to look at him.

He did not speak during this silence, and as if he knew that she was struggling with herself, tightened his solitary hold on her hand. She was slightly surprised when he seemed to avoid blatantly staring at her, giving her the time she needed.

When she lifted her chin again, however, he spoke first.

“I said I would come with you, Arturia, and I’m not changing my mind.” His tone left no room for argument, and he leaned back slightly, even though he didn’t let go of her hand. “Tell me what will happen during this surgery.”

She stared at him with mild mistrust. Deciding not to question him, at least for the time being, she briefly explained that it was going to be conscious sedation, so that she would be sleepy and not feel anything as a small tube was inserted through the cervix. The procedure was going to be short, requiring less than ten minutes, but she was going to have to stay at the clinic for a few hours afterwards. She gave Gilgamesh a pointed look as she insisted on this part, impressing upon him that it was completely useless for him to accompany her.

She leaned back slightly as she finished her explanation, and she began considering pulling back her hand as well.

“It’s best if you don’t come over tonight,” she said, almost absent-mindedly.

To her surprise, he confirmed, his expression not giving away anything, “I wasn’t going to.”

She did not feel slighted, but she did notice his quick agreement about staying away from her. She remembered that she should have been aware of this development changing their relationship forever.

As if he had read her mind, however, he continued, “Because I know you don’t want me to.” He had now a strange expression. “I know when you want to be alone, Arturia.”

Suddenly, he leaned forward and, while one hand still firmly held hers on the table, the other went up to cup her cheek. “I will give you the solitude you want this time, but I will come by tomorrow. And I will come with you to the appointment. You should not carry this burden alone, and you will not. I won’t allow that to happen.”

Once again, she was surprised by how _glad_ she felt about hearing those words. He was not dismissing their talk, he was not dismissing either of their worries about the abortion – but at the same time, she didn’t fully believe him.

Gilgamesh was a person who rarely took anything seriously, and while she often appreciated this side of his character, as it helped and somewhat complemented her sterner nature, relying on him could sometimes become a struggle. She was in a sort-of relationship with him because she cared deeply about him and – even though she hadn’t admitted it even to herself – she was in love with him, but that did not mean that she found it any easier to trust him.

Discussing an abortion did not seem to have affected their interactions, but she doubted it was going to last. Once he could ponder over it, she expected him to distance himself from her, as she doubted he truly meant what he had said.

..

...

..

He did show up the following day as he had promised, and he did come to go with her to the clinic.

She had actually considered leaving quietly a little earlier, but he seemed to have anticipated this, because he arrived early as well. He did not say a word, instead kissing her lightly in greeting as he always did.

Perhaps he had been serious after all.

..

...

..

After all the necessary check-ups had been completed, after she was given a warning not to worry about bleeding for a few days since it was normal and after she made another appointment for around two weeks later, she could finally leave. The operation itself had been quick and painless, but it had taken several hours for the effects of the sedative to wear off, and Gilgamesh had waited there with her the entire time.

He had not said much at the beginning, never having been one for idle chatter, but he had started to make some off-hand comments about matters of little consequence once he had noticed how tense she was becoming before the surgery. She had been in a sort of relaxed trance when she was given the sedative, which had made her talkative in a way that she knew had amused Gilgamesh very much, but as she had slowly started to feel more like herself again, she had become progressively more silent.

The way he had looked at her had made her feel somewhat vulnerable. If the absence of the usual twinkle in his eyes was anything to go by, he had been able to see her grief, yet, for some inexplicable reason, he wasn’t judging her for it.

That had made her realize that this abortion wasn’t going to be enough to tear them apart; their strange relationship would remain as strong as it had been until this point, and they would eventually be able to go back to their usual banter.

But at least for this day, things weren’t going to be anywhere near that easy.

Arturia sat in the car, mostly oblivious to anything around her, her gaze once again faraway and empty.

She felt… miserable.

The tears didn’t come; she still had too much pride for that. Nevertheless, she could not stop the waterless gasps that ran through her body as she curled up. Her eyes hurt, but they were dry, her chest ached as if she had been stabbed, and she shook violently with hard, arid sobs.

She loathed herself for her weakness, for letting the emotional pain course through her, for not being able to suppress it. She should have been stronger. What good was there in grieving? What good was there in suffering, in letting the hurt suffocate her, the sadness wash over her, the agony threaten to drown her?

“There’s no good in it.”

Gilgamesh’s voice came out in an uncharacteristic whisper. She must have asked those questions out loud amidst the wretched and hollow sounds of her crying.

“There’s no good in it,” he repeated, a little louder this time.

Suddenly his arms were around her, invading her space, cradling her to him, enveloping her in a tight, solid embrace.

She hated being hugged, it always felt either like smothering or something fake, but this was different. He wanted to make sure she listened to him, he was _anchoring_ her, and therefore she allowed it.

“But why, Arturia, do you only want to think of what is good? You mustn’t always do what is _good_. You aren’t that. That’s not you.” His lips pressed briefly against her temple and he held her even closer. “You always do what is _right_.”

She now started crying in earnest, salty water spilling from her eyes, and her pride was forgotten as she simply mourned.

The choice had been made, and she did not regret it, as she had made her decision after a lot of thought and consideration, but it did not mean that carrying out the choice hadn’t been horribly painful.

She thought she felt Gilgamesh’s body shaking too, and there was some wetness on her hair that couldn’t have possibly been caused by her own tears, but she decided in instinct not to comment on it. When he wanted to let her see him mourn as well, he would, she knew that.

She was ready to grieve right now and let him comfort her, he was going to do the same some other time. He was now supporting her throughout what she had to do in order to carry out her choice. It was enough that he understood her decision and shared her sadness this time – they could argue about his pride another time.

This time, she could allow herself to suffer for the choice she had decided to make, and she could let him stay with her and hold her as she dealt with its deep, excruciating pain.

..

...

..

**Author's Note:**

> Abortion should not be forced on any woman, but it should not be denied to any woman either. Every woman who has an unwanted pregnancy has the right to make a carefully informed choice about what to do, and receive advice and support no matter what choice she ultimately makes, because I won't lie - none of the possible choices is going to be easy, but making one of them is every woman's right.  
Thank you very much for reading this story :)


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